


I was Took in Texas

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Summer Fic, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, dean and impala, handjob, jealous!Sam, sweaty teenchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <img/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	I was Took in Texas

Sam's wanted his big brother's hands on him for as far back as he could remember, but it gets really bad when he first hits puberty. He'd sit and watch Dean work on the car, dirty with sweat and grease, watch him take her apart from underneath, from inside. Occasionally, he'd help out where he could. Where Dean'd allow.

"Sammy, wanna hand me the 15mm?" Dean would ask in a gruff voice, extending his soiled palm, and Sam would inspect each tool eagerly, checking for the right size Dean asked for. And Sam would hand it to him, place the heavy steel ratchet in his brother's waiting hand and wait for the grin Dean'd flash him to let him know he did good.

It gets really _really_ bad when he's watching Dean sponge down the Impala after he fixed her up for the thousandth time, when he's watching the suds fly and the denim cling to Dean's thick legs, watching the white of his t-shirt soak through and stick to lean, muscled skin. He sits there and swallows down the lump in his throat, wishing Dean would give him as much physical attention as he gives the car. He patches up his wounds all the time, sure, even lets Sam lean on him when he's hurt or tired. But he's never taken him apart and put him back together the way Sam wants him to. The way Sam imagines he can, when after Dean tries to splash him with the hose he runs inside and locks himself in the bathroom.

And it gets worse, when Dean knocks on the door and wonders what's wrong. Sam has a hand on himself but he can't finish now. He shoves himself back in his pants and opens the door to find Dean standing there teasing him about being afraid to "get wet."

Hell yeah he's afraid; he knows what water wars with Dean will do to his very young, very _eager_ body, so he struggles when Dean pulls him outside again.

"No, Dean! I mean it!" Sam whips his hand out of Dean's grasp and Dean looks at him like he's crazy.

"Fine, calm down. You're no fun, Sammy." He glances at the shiny like-new Impala, his baby, and says "wanna take her for a spin?"

 

Sam's shifting and squirming in the seat the whole drive to wherever Dean's decided to go. He steals a sideways glance at Dean who's singing along to Thin Lizzy, shoulders relaxed, one arm leaning casually out the window.

 _Lord I'm just thinkin' 'bout a certain female,_ he sings loudly, and Sam watches the way his fingers grip the wheel tighter, knuckles clean now that he's hosed himself off for the most part. He still smells like an engine and it makes Sam's mouth water, his tongue get all heavy. He looks away when Dean notices him staring.

They park in a field where the grass is all yellow because it's too hot and too dry here for anything to be green. Dean sits in the grass with his knees up and watches Sam who's still standing by the car.

"Hey, Sammy, wanna bring me a beer?" And now Sam hates that he never says _please,_ so that it's a lot more like a rhetorical question. Sam groans but digs in the cooler for a cold one. He hates that he's so eager to please Dean. It's almost pathetic.

"You know, I'd let you have one, too, but Dad says you're still too young," he smirks wickedly, extending his hand as Sam walks over. Dean's not even twenty-one either, apparently Winchesters just make up their own laws.

Sam scoffs at that but hands him the dripping wet bottle. Their hands touch for a fraction of a second, Dean's warm fingers brushing over Sam's cold wet ones, and Sam holds on to the bottle for a second too long because Dean's looking like he's catching on.

The bottle makes a hiss as he cranks it open, and then he's putting his mouth around it and swallowing down the fizzy, amber liquid.

"Don't she look sweet?!" Dean whoops, impressed with himself, and Sam brushes his jeans off and takes a seat next to Dean.

"Yeah, she does..." Sam says in a low voice. He can't believe Dean's _still_ talking about the car and looking at it and complimenting it. He plucks at some grass. "Why don't you marry it or something," he mumbles, but Dean hears cause he turns his head.

It's silent for a while but then Dean says "you gonna tell me why you've been a cranky bitch lately?"

Sam shoots him an irritated glare but doesn't say anything.

"You want some of this?" Dean offers, and Sam loosens. He nods and Dean tilts the bottle in towards him, probably waiting for him to take it, but Sam just waits for Dean to bring it to his lips. Sam opens his mouth around the rim and Dean angles the bottle up a little until Sam tastes the bubbly sweetness of the beer. It was too much too fast because a little spills out over Sam's chin and he has to pull back.

"Jesus," Sam says, wiping his chin off, and Dean laughs and apologizes.

Sam makes a face at the aftertaste. It's... well, kind of gross. Too tangy.

Dean laughs again. "It's an acquired taste."

Sam's got this tingly feeling all over and it's not just from the beer. Being this close to Dean, being all sweaty like this, having Dean friggin put something in his mouth, he's... yeah, he's halfway hard. He picks something off his jeans and for the longest time neither of them say anything.

Then Dean's hand is on his knee, _actually on his knee_ , and Sam feels his heart begin to rabbit in his throat.

"Sam," he says, and Sam looks over to make sure this is real just as Dean caresses his thigh. "It's okay, c'mere," he's saying in a low voice. "Think I know."

Sam tightens his lips as Dean reaches the crevice between hip and thigh. "Lie back. It's okay, lie back."

Sam's so anxious his whole body's practically shaking. He lies back eagerly, hand on Dean's knee like he's scared he's gonna go away but Dean just puts the bottle down behind him and then all his attention's on Sam. _Finally_ on Sam. Sam doesn't know how he knew, some sort of big brother sixth sense, but he's never been so excited in his life. He's pretty much bursting out of his jeans, the lack of stretch to the denim uncomfortable and he worms around on the ground but Dean takes it slow.

He's so much gentler than he is with the car, Sam notices, watching Dean smooth his rough hands over his stomach, slowly hiking his shirt up around his belly button. Dean's looking at his body like it's an intricate work of art, like feeling it would make him understand it. And occasionally their eyes meet and that's when it's too much for Sam. Dean's rubbing his hands gently over Sam's heated skin, caressing his hips and the flat of his stomach and the bulge underneath his pants.

Somehow their shirts come off and then Dean works on the button of Sam's jeans, popping it open to expose the clean white of his boxers. Sam pushes his hips up a little when Dean reaches all the way back and then drags with his palm long and slow up the shaft of Sam's cock. Sam whimpers and eagerly squirms out of his jeans. He's about to burst any second, but Dean's not giving him enough yet.

Sam practically sobs when Dean finally pushes his boxers down his hips and gets one of his rough, calloused hands around Sam's sensitive cock. He pushes into it, watching as Dean gathers the pre-come up with his thumb and slides it around the slit.

Sam listens to the pathetic noises he's making, grasping at Dean's arm just for something to hold on to. Dean's lying beside him now, sweat making their arms slide together. Dean leans in and whispers soothing words against his ear.

"That's it, Sammy... so hot... damn, so fucking hot... that feel good? Huh, baby?"

Sam strains against the noises that are involuntarily escaping his throat, leaning into Dean's musky scent, nodding and chewing on his lip. He wants to tell Dean _just how good it feels,_ but he can barely speak. He just says "yeah" and "Dean" over and over.

Dean's fist tightens and pulls expertly, all slick with sweat and pre-come, and just like that, Sam's giving it up. He spills all over Dean's fingers and his own stomach, and Dean works him through all of the tremors until he's left heaving and boneless.

Dean fingers through Sam's sweaty hair as Sam comes back to earth, other hand rubbing over the flecks of come on his stomach, soothing with his palm.

"Dean, how'd you... how'd you know... I..." Sam pants. He wants to say _I wanted you_ but he's still not sure Dean's caught on to the _whole_ picture so he doesn't finish.

"Hey, I was a fifteen-year-old too, once," Dean says, usual devilish charm in his voice but it’s a little too husky now, and he clears his throat after.

Sam's hand's in between Dean's legs, holding on to his thigh. Slowly, he retreats, pushing up on his elbows. He frowns a little, thinking, because he didn't just want to _get off_. He wanted _Dean_ to get him off. He doesn't know how to say that though, if he _should_ even say that.

Dean adjusts his pants as he stands and takes another swig of beer. Sam gets his jeans back on and Dean slaps an arm around him.

"Not bad, Sammy. We should do that again, sometime."

Sam smiles, suddenly hopeful. He thinks smugly of Dean calling him _Baby_ and feels a strange sense of triumph as he gets into the Impala and they hit the road.

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write something summery and was inspired by the above caps from a video that's so obviously wincest ;)  
> and yes i should be working on prompts i'm sorryyyy  
> Title from Cowboy Song, the song Dean's singing in the car


End file.
